Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 55 This world is a net
Gaston Boischer looked at Lionel with a hint of disappointment: "Are you short of money? You should know that whether your first piece of work is published in Le Figaro or Le Petit Parisien, the paths are completely different."

Le Petit Parish, along with Le Monde, Le Journal du Dimanche, and Le Petit Le Journal du Dimanche, gradually became the "Big Four" newspapers in France starting in the 1870s, with each newspaper having a daily circulation of over 300,000 copies, and sometimes reaching as high as 500,000 copies.

However, these newspapers all lean towards mass entertainment, focusing on political and entertainment news and current affairs commentary, with their audience mainly consisting of the lower classes.

In addition to news and commentary, Le Parisien also publishes novels and serialized works, and pays authors high royalties.

Le Figaro is one of the oldest newspapers in France. It started as a satirical publication with radical views, but after many twists and turns, it gradually transformed into an elitist newspaper targeting the middle class and intellectuals from the mid-19th century onwards.

This limited Le Figaro's sales to only about 7 copies per issue.

However, French writers considered it an honor to have their works published in Le Figaro—Baudelaire of Les Fleurs du Mal, and the Goncourt brothers were his contributors.

Lionel said earnestly, "Professor, I am indeed short of money—if I don't solve my current difficulties, I'm afraid I won't be able to get anywhere!"

Gaston Boischer glanced at Lionel's clothes, and thinking of the rumors, he couldn't help but feel a little doubtful. However, due to his status, he couldn't ask directly, so he could only shake his head regretfully: "I hope you won't regret this later."

Then he took out a piece of paper and handed it to Lionel, on which were listed the reprint prices of different newspapers:
Le Parisien, 200 francs.

Le Figaro, 130 francs.

Le Gaulle, 150 francs.

"Libération", 80 francs.

These are all well-known newspapers in Paris, but the prices are indeed vastly different—but this is related to the newspaper's positioning. For example, although the Liberty only paid 80 francs, it is known as the Republic's "Times" and is the preferred newspaper for officials, diplomats, and members of parliament. It can even influence parliament and diplomacy.

Next came some small newspapers, one of which, called the Gil Blas newspaper, didn't even mention payment for articles, only stating one sentence:

Your piece, "The Old Guard," will be the grand finale of our inaugural issue, and together we will march towards the literary hall of fame in France.

Looks like it's all just empty promises...

But soon a strange name and an astonishing sum of money for the manuscript caught his eye:
"Chronicles of the Fatherland", 220 francs.

Lionel looked up at Gaston Boischer with some surprise: "Professor, what kind of newspaper is 'Chronicle of the Fatherland' that is so generous? I've never heard of it."

Gaston Boischer replied dismissively, "It's a Russian newspaper."

Lionel was incredulous: "A Russian newspaper?"

“Yes, a Russian newspaper. Those Russians really like French novels, and this newspaper has an office in Paris,” Gaston Boischer patiently explained to Lionel. “They get the latest literary trends from Paris every week, and the fees they pay are the most generous.”

Seeing that Lionel didn't seem to know much about the relationship between novels, writers, and newspapers from different countries, he stood up, walked to the newspaper rack by his door, pulled out a large stack of newspapers, and placed them on Lionel's desk: "You'll understand eventually, take a look."

Although Lionel had the life experience and knowledge of a literature professor 150 years later, he did not cover such detailed aspects, so he read it carefully.

Among the newspapers Professor Boischer gave him were not only French newspapers, but also Russian publications such as *The Fatherland Chronicle* and *Northern Flower*; British publications such as *The Spectator*, *The Bi-monthly Review*, and *House of Fame*; and American publications such as *The Atlantic*, *Harper's Journal*, and *North American Review*...

Gaston Boischer said: "Dear Lionel, these newspapers have woven a literary web that spans national borders, and all the writers and journalists are somewhere in this web."

The slightest tremor on this web will quickly spread throughout the entire network. Telegraphs, trains, mail ships… are disseminating great works at an unprecedented speed. Dickens's *Bleak House* and *A Tale of Two Cities* were serialized in newspapers in England and Russia almost simultaneously; oh, and Dumas's novels were even serialized in France, England, and Russia at the same time.

Of course, these newspapers varied in character—the British were too vulgar; the Americans too crude; and the Russians, well, generous, but always prone to censorship.

Today, an American journalist might read your short story published in Le Figaro in The Atlantic.

A professor at Moscow State University will encounter the Russian translation of your work in the journal *Northern Flower*.
A London critic might invite you across the sea to a tea party because of a story in Le Parisien…

Whoever knows how to ignite the right tide of the times can leap from the pages of paper onto the stage of history—that's why you chose to give the first reprint of "The Old Guard" to…

“Le Petit Parisien!” Lionel said firmly, then added, “Won’t it be a problem if it’s also reprinted in Chronicle of the Fatherland? After all, it’s far away in Russia.”

Upon hearing this, Professor Gaston Boischer could only sigh, not wanting to say another word, and waved for Lionel to leave.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Lionel sat in the public carriage on his way home, reflecting on his conversation with Professor Boischer that day.

As an elite, Professor Boischer naturally hoped that his students' works would first appear in Le Figaro, thus achieving a leap in social class in terms of reputation.

But Lionel had his own ideas.

The huge difference in royalties was one aspect; Le Parisien earned 70 francs more than Le Figaro, almost enough for his monthly rent at his apartment at 12 Rue Anthon.

But in the end, the audience was the most important reason for his choice of Le Parisien.

He didn't want to be a writer who was only liked by scholars in their studies or literary youths in classrooms—like Flaubert or Mérimée—but wanted to be a true "popular writer."

Gaston Boischer's interpretation of the 19th-century literary world, however, gave him real inspiration and enlightenment.

……

While he was thinking, he returned to 12 Antane Street, walked briskly up to the 5th floor, took out his key and opened the door. He was immediately greeted by a rich aroma of meat. He wondered how Petty, that little girl, would fare in ballet, but her talent for cooking was absolutely top-notch.

"Young Master Sorel, you're back!" Petty skipped into the foyer, then, as if remembering something, bowed respectfully to Lionel.

Lionel frowned slightly, but didn't say much, and affectionately patted Petty's head as usual: "Is it oxtail tomato soup today?"

Petty nodded vigorously: "The recipe you taught me... but I made a slight adjustment, adding some thyme and lemon zest."

"I could tell it was the right smell! Patty, you're a genius!"

After praising her skills, Lionel noticed the light was on in his study and frowned—shouldn't Alice be copying accounts and manuscripts in her and Patty's bedroom? He had provided them with a desk.

A sense of unease washed over him, and Lionel strode to the study, turned the handle, and pushed open the door.

Alice swiftly slung a stack of papers behind her back, her face flushed, and explained, "I'm out of paper for copying the accounts, so I came to get a few sheets..."

(End of this chapter)